Steamy Book Quotes & Sayings

After a few seconds of scraping, I realize what he has isn't a trail, it's a whole forest! Ack! Weren't all men supposed to shave their chest and stuff nowadays? Whatever happened to having fuzz-free Hollywood heroes as role models? At least my embarrassment is completely foregone by the irritation at his lack of upkeep. The only thing distracting me now is that heady mix of musk, shaving cream and a distinctly ... male scent. And God knows that is one seriously jeopardizing distraction. Especially with a whizzing needle in one's hand. — Rucy Ban

No, it's not, but when I read a book without sex, I feel like I'm missing that connection between the characters...call me a pervert, but I think sex in a book is not just about getting all hot and steamy. It's about seeing the characters form this bond that is undeniable, you know? — Meghan Quinn

Oh, darlin', I'm gonna walk you through it, kiss you through it, feel you through it, taste you through it. Hell, I'm hoping you call out my name through it, but for some reason, if I can't get you off, by all means, play along. It won't hurt my feelings. But I don't think you'll need to. — Beverly Preston

There was something elemental in the air, something that heated the blood and brought to the conscious mind desires long suppressed. Serena's body felt heavy and warm as she swayed involuntarily to the compelling music. The fire on such a steamy night was too much, and she felt an irresistible impulse to tear off her elaborate gown so she could dance freely in the sheer coolness of her chemise. Dance to the insistent music with one man's dark eyes watching her, devouring her, till he was forced to leap up and join her as was the young man who leaped up beside the Spanish woman. — Diane Gates Robinson

Still, to me, the bottom line wasn't about the Dark Book at all. It was about uncovering the details of my sister's secret life. I didn't want the creepy thing. I just wanted to know who or what had killed Alina, and I wanted him or it dead. Then I wanted to go home to my pleasantly provincial po-dunk little town in steamy southern Georgia and forget about everything that had happened to me while I was in Dublin. The Fae didn't visit Ashford? Good. I'd marry a local boy with a jacked-up Chevy pickup truck, Toby Keith singing "Who's Your Daddy?" on the radio, and eight proud generations of honest, hardworking Ashford ancestors decorating his family tree. Short of essential shopping trips to Atlanta, I'd never leave home again. But — Karen Marie Moning